Gauntlet: Advent
by Cap'n Chryssalid
Summary: (Complete!) The ranks of those who fight have dwindled to their lowest point, but hope and horror have not yet drawn from the world. One who did die may still live to bring his dreams to terrible fruition... (sequel to Gauntlet: Redemption)
1. Default Chapter

Insert worthless not legally binding in court disclaimer stuff here. Like a good communist, I own nothing.

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"Gauntlet: Advent"  
Part 1

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**1997 CE  
October 5  
T-12 Hours**

"Good morning, Jean."

"Good morning, Dr. Goldberg." The young secretary looked up at the older woman. "Are you here to see the Colonel?"

"Yes. Could you please punch me in?"

"Of course." The pretty young woman pivoted slightly in her chair, and started to log the meeting in with the rest of the day's events.

Emily watched her closely. "I like your hair. It works well with your fatigues."

"Thank you, Dr. Goldberg." The young lady blushed a bit, a hint of red touching her cheeks. Emily had been only honest. The young lieutenant's close-cropped black hair worked perfectly with her combat fatigues. She was very pretty, in a tomboy sort of way. The blush to her cheeks meant that she'd heard the... rumors about Dr. Goldberg. It didn't worry the older woman, of course, as it only made Jean look that much more endearing.

"All cleared." The lieutenant finished the log, and opened the large doors behind her and to the side, with an audible hiss.

"Thanks." Dr. Goldberg tossed her long light blonde hair as she walked into the room, lab-coat sashaying about her calves. As soon as she crossed the threshold, the door closed and sealed behind her. The Colonel's room was dark, save for a single lamp light on his large solid oak desk.

"Dr. Goldberg." He said from where he sat, most of his face illuminated by the lamplight. He wore a stern, determined expression, as he always had worn for as long as she had known him. Behind him, the dull glow of varied computers and equipment served as a background, a flashing whirling orgy of information of every variety.

"You can call me Emily," She purred, walking closer to him. "If you want to."

"Why are you here, Dr. Goldberg?" The Colonel looked down at some paperwork, indicating she only had a short time to earn his continued attention.

"Always with the formalities, eh? Well, I came because I have a problem." She didn't detect any interest at that. "A problem that begins with your son. Do I have your attention now, Dr. Utonium?"

He looked up from the paperwork, enough that she could see his red tie, and the striking gold and blue 'M' lapel they all wore, with five dots sheltered by the peaks of the letter. "You do, Dr. Goldberg. What seems to be the problem?"

"I think you know what the problem is already." She frowned. "But I think you need someone to tell you to your face."

"Out with it."

"He has been demanding more and more resources for his Project 'Mneme.' He's eating up everyone's designated lab time with the Artifact, including my own, and I'm... concerned that he's going to make a move to human testing ahead of schedule. My concerns are not my own. Others have expressed it as well... but are hesitant to bring it up with you." She snorted mockingly. "I can't imagine why. You're such a cheery lovable fellow."

Dr. Utonium's eyes narrowed. "Rest assured... I will see to this matter personally."

* * *

"What's going on? What's the racket?"

"A problem." Professor Utonium activated one of his larger lab monitors, the scene on it changing rapidly. Butch caught scenes of what might have once been a school, several different houses outside the city, in varied condition (one was completely burnt to the ground, others looked vandalized), different parts of the city, and finally to an aerial view.

"Cameras?" Butch questioned. "How...?"

"Mojo's network." The Professor didn't mention that he'd stolen access to it, as well as innumerable other data files and sensitive information, when Brick and Mojo had foolishly tried to break into his system. "I managed to find a way into it a few days ago."

"Oh." Butch narrowed his eyes at the screen, where an indistinct apparition moved over the city. "What the hell is that?"

"Another One." The Professor hissed, softly. "Damn."

"Damn is right! Boomer isn't awake yet...!"

The older man closed his eyes, as if in thought, but only for a moment. Decisive times called for decisive measures. "Well, he's going to be, in a few minutes."

"Wait..." Butch knew what that meant. "What about the possibility of brain damage? You can't...!"

"You think I want to?" The Professor growled, looking down at the Rowdyruff Boy. "You think I..."

At that moment, Blossom, Buttercup and Bubbles appeared in a streak of pink, green and light blue. At the Powerpuff's arrival, the older man seemed to deflate a bit, and calmed down. Blossom looked between the two of them.

"What?" She asked.

The Professor looked from Butch to her. "Another one of the creatures has appeared above Townsville."

"You mean... like those 'other' things?" Buttercup's face became a scowl.

"Yes." He paused. "I will wake Boomer up, analyze what information can be gathered remotely, and then you five can..."

"Four." Butch corrected. "No one wakes Boomer up prematurely." His eyes became slits. "No one."

"Butch... what's wrong?" Buttercup could see that Butch was not willing to butch an inch on this. She looked up at the Professor. "Dad..." She noted that his face softened at the word. "What's wrong with waking him up?"

"Nothing!" Butch cut in. "Just brain damage, 'cause you'd be slapping him out of a fuckin' coma! He wakes up on his own! No way I risk it!"

"I agree." Blossom seconded.

"Yeah." Buttercup added. "Boomer's kind of an a... a jerk, but..."

She trailed off. Bubbles said nothing, preferring to stay silent. Blossom glanced at her blonde sister suspiciously, but her eyes didn't linger.

"Fine." The Professor sighed. "I will be going with you, then. Miss Bellum will monitor things from here."

"You're coming?!" "She can do that?" "Huh?"

The two puffs and one ruff looked at each other, before silently deciding who should speak first. Blossom cleared her throat. "You're coming? Professor..."

"I'm not taking any chances. I have a feeling this One... this One will be a handful." He scratched his chin, thoughtfully. "Luckily, I've been working on some insurance..."

He walked around the children to a smooth metal locker against the wall. Flipping open an access panel, he tapped in a quick combination of numbers, and it noiselessly opened, the metal sheathe sliding back and up into the Lab wall. Under fluorescent lights, three small armored versions of the Powerpuff space suit were visible next to a rebuilt and improved 'Powerprof' battlesuit.

"What the hell?" Butch narrowed his eyes at the four suits.

Bubbles seemed a bit uneasy about something. "Are those... ours?"

The Professor nodded gravely. "You'll be needing them."

"I don't need any stupid..." Buttercup started, but never finished.

"You cannot go outside as you are!" The Professor sighed. "I've kept all of you indoors because these were incomplete and untested... it isn't prudent for any of you to go outside without protection."

Blossom seized this opportunity at openness. "What's going on outside, Professor?"

"I... was unsure at first." He closed his eyes, and reached for his breast pocket. With unsteady fingers, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Opening his eyes he looked at them, frowned, and crushed the entire thing in his fist. "There is a disease spreading outside. An insidious disease... I've been trying to cure it... but there is no cure. No cure..."

"A disease?" Buttercup's nose wrinkled at that: there was little good her strength could do against an enemy like that.

"A disease of the spirit and heart. Those outside... are losing their humanity." The Powerpuff's father searched for a proper description. "Becoming like beasts..."

Blossom blinked, and remembered the dream-Brick's words:_ 'At heart, every man and woman is an animal, Blossom. A beast.'_

"What do you mean, losing their humanity?" Bubbles asked. "I don't understand..."

"A loss of self control... a loss of inhibition... those infected start acting like animals. No thought of others. No concept of nobility... only greed. Hunger. Animal instincts. I didn't dare go outside. I didn't dare let any of you go outside, or... or..."

"We'd be worse than beasts. We'd be... monsters?" Blossom suggested. The look on his face told her she'd guessed right.

"The entire house is self contained. Recycled air... a perpetuating supply of basic nutrients and food... a biosphere, not totally independent of the world, of course, but good enough to keep us safe another year or so." The Professor looked down at the crumpled box in his hands. "The only thing it couldn't buy us was time."

At that, no one spoke.

"I don't get something." Butch spoke up, breaking the silence. "How did you set all this stuff up on the fly?"

Blossom thought about that. It was a good question. How did he?

"I..." The Professor trailed off. "I..."

"He knew." Miss Bellum interrupted, from where she stood at the base of the Laboratory steps. "He knew something like this was coming."

"The Shelter System." Blossom remembered hearing about it once or twice, when Miss Bellum and a few other important people had come over to discuss the matter with the Professor, who had designed it as a network of specially shielded bunkers under the city.

He nodded. "The Shelter System... unfortunately... not enough. I... I don't know how many people made it to the Shelters, or how many were already infected. I was ready, but I wasn't prepared."

"This is one of Them." Blossom realized. "This disease... it's no accident. No coincidence." The Powerpuff leader glanced to her side, and saw Bubbles blink and look away from her, hiding the expression on her face.

"No coincidence at all." She finished.

"It likely is." The Professor agreed. "Regardless, I haven't found a way to diagnose it, much less cure it. I don't even know how it's being transmitted..." He hung his head in defeat. "Or..."

"Or how to find the Living Core." Blossom finished for him, again.

"You must use the suits." He looked up. "I've improved them... built on them... they'll help absorb shock, energy, resist acid... anything that this thing can throw at you girls."

"What about me?" Butch asked. "Where's my kickass battlesuit? Dude, did you build a Gundam?! Can I pilot that crazy shit? Fucking Buster Cannon n' stuff!"

"Butch! Watch your mouth!" Blossom and Bellum yelled, at the same time, and looked at each other. Butch ignored them and looked up at the Professor hopefully.

"No." The older man said, simply. "Sorry."

Butch's left eyebrow twitched. "No?" He asked, in a small voice.

"No." The Professor looked past him at the girls. "Butch: you'll have to stay here."

"Wait a second!" Butch piqued up. "Why were you so intent on waking Boomer up if we don't have any fancy power suits or nothin?"

The Professor looked down at the Rowdyruff, a look of displeasure on his face.

"Backup." He answered, simply. "If the worst happens, and there's nothing to lose..."

"I see. Throw the Rowdyruffs into the fray." Butch frowned. "No skin off your back, eh? As long as your precious girls don't get fucked up, you just don't give a flying shit, do you, doc?"

For once, Blossom didn't try and correct Butch's foul mouth. The intensity of his outburst surprised everyone... except the man it was supposed to. Professor Utonium's stare was cold as ice. He chose his words carefully, and spoke with a measure of authority and detached ruthlessness none had heard before.

"Outside these walls... my world has literally gone to hell. Do you know how many friends I've lost? Do you know how many people are already dead? You have no idea, boy." Kneeling down, he looked Butch in the eyes. "If we lose... if we die... what are you going to do? Hide in here? Cower under your bed sheets? Is that how you want it to end?"

Butch's upper lip rose in a low snarl.

"Because that's how you'll die, when it comes for you." The Professor stood back up. "Now. Am I understood?"

Butch finally snorted, loudly, dismissively. "With your shield or on it, huh?"

"Yes. Something like that."

Butch looked away, but said nothing more. He mentally sighed. So that's how it was: if the girls fell, they really had nothing to lose. Why not charge the pikes? For an instant, he imagined that the girls had fallen... and realized that there'd be no way of holding him back from doing just that. That realization surprised him. Just a little over two months ago, he'd hardly have balked at killing them himself.

Silently, he watched as the Professor talked to his girls, and took them over to their power suits. Each Powerpuff easily slipped into her little suit of power armor. They were color coded, but largely utilitarian. A cunning smooth surface of joints and plates moved as they flew and flexed, and Butch initially figured the suits had to be of relatively thin material.

"That stuff doesn't look very tough, old man." Butch noted the Professor's expression at the 'old man' moniker.

"It is." Miss Bellum answered for the Professor, who was still putting his own armor on. Without a word, the older man fitted his left arm piece on, and attached what looked somewhat like a gas mask to hiss lower jaw, connecting it to the armored helmet on his head.

"Yeah?" Butch asked the tall redhead.

"Yeah." The Professor answered, his voice mechanically filtered and slightly deeper and gravely.

"Woah!" Buttercup yelped, as her arm piece started to liquefy and reform into a long metal blade. "What's going on?"

"The material is partly a nanotechnological cloak, a sheathe, that reforms on command, or in response to thought." Under his mask, the Professor grinned. "I actually have to thank you girls for this stuff. I modified it from the nanotech you girls fought back in April."

"At least that gunk's being put to good use." Buttercup concentrated, and reformed her arm into what looked like a cannon. "It has promise."

"Not in the house, Buttercup." His voice took on a fatherly tone. Tightening the buckle around his waist, locking all the powersuit components together into a single unit, he finished his preparations. "Now. 'Let's put the smack down!'"

"...So lame," Butch whispered. "So very lame..."

Behind Neo-Powerprof, the Powerpuff Girls just shook their heads sadly.

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**1997 CE  
October 5  
T-9 Hours**

"Father."

"Robert." The two generations of Utoniums stood, face to face. John looked over his clean faced child, a child no longer. Robert Utonium had grown into a strong, confident, independent young man. He hadn't had an alternative not to. Being the son of Utonium meant certain expectations from what passed for his father, perfection and excellence being prime examples.

It was worth noting that both men hardly knew each other.

Motherless since she had died in childbirth, Robert's parents may as well have been his ailing grandfather and grandmother. Still, that arrangement had only lasted a few years, before they too had passed on. Taken in by his father, who was more often than not gone on business of varied nature, the Utonium sire had grown up alone and determined. On the rare occasions the older Utonium came to visit, his primary concerns were academics.

The never-ending pursuit of excellence.

The younger man turned up his nose at his slightly shorter father. "What brings you to my Lab, Colonel, sir?"

"Walk with me," The older man said, his command not to be denied or delayed.

"Sir." Robert nodded, and the two walked around to the far end of the Lab, piled high with charts and progress reports, and seldom visited when so much work was required elsewhere.

Watching his father closely, Robert tried to gauge his mood. It was difficult. His father had always been a driven, introverted man, obsessed with his work and his academics. The younger Utonium nearly spat at that thought. Perfect grades had done little to endear him in his father's eyes, it seemed. Even athletics and physical excellence earned little more than an appreciative nod, or small smile.

How he hated this man: John Utonium.

"What seems to be the problem, sir?" He asked, calmly.

"I've received complaints from other Department heads, Robert."

"Ah. I see." Robert Utonium frowned, deeply. "They're jealous. Old men... old hags... lashing out against the young upstart. It's the most predictable..."

"Regardless. I have reviewed your records, son..." John Utonium looked at his son out of the corner of his eyes. "You are monopolizing the Artifact. And your bullying of Dr. Takagama, convincing him that his time with it was better spent in your hands, is not appreciated."

"Takagama is a coward and a sycophant. He lacks..."

"Takagama is an Advocate of the Second Circle. You could at least respect that, if not him being your elder, boy." The elder Utonium's voice took on a dangerous edge. "You will not challenge me on this. You are still only an Initiate."

"A Fifth level Initiate..." A cold stare from his father froze Robert in his tracks. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm putting Project Mneme in temporary hiatus." Before his son could interrupt, the older man raised his voice. "You will learn to share time by giving yours to those you bought, swindled, and stole it from. I run an orderly operation here, and I will not see that carefully crafted order done in by an insolent overconfident brat, no matter how smart he thinks he is."

"Sir! You... you can't do this! Mneme is so close to completion! I just need a little more time! I... A breakthrough is...!"

But Dr. John Utonium was already walking away. His orders were not up for debate or deliberation. Hands clenched into fists, Robert Utonium seethed, and silently cursed his stone cold rock of a father. How could he do this? Mneme was the future of mankind! Didn't the old bastard see this? Didn't he understand?

Obviously not.

"You will understand, you old fart. And soon." The young man brought his hand up, and ran it through his short but thick locks of dark red hair. "To hell with you... and your orders."

* * *

"My god... the city..."

"It's like that future we saw." Buttercup gulped, taking in the extent of devastation. The city of Townsville was a nightmare ruin. The tallest buildings had fallen into disrepair, though they still stood, creaking and groaning in the howling wind. Other parts of the city and many smaller buildings looked like they'd burned nearly to the ground, littering the streets and alleys with a layer of ash and soot, like dark snow. Here and there, like tiny pinpricks, small fires were the only light in what was once Townsville. Worse, as far as the eye could see, from even a great height, the rest of the state, even nearby Farmsville was a long stretch of darkness. The lights from far off Citysville were nonexistent. Dark clouds rolled overhead.

No light.

No life.

"A new Dark Age." Blossom finally answered her sister. "This is... this is horrible. Beyond horrible."

"Look!" Bubbles pointed down, at they flew over one of the small fires. Narrowing their vision, the three girls saw a small group of people, huddles around the crude pile of burning wood. Pausing in their flight, they watched, as several dirty looking Townsvillians murmured and grumbled between themselves, over what looked like some sort of animal that was cooking, impaled, over the flames.

Suddenly, and without warning, a scuffle broke out between two large men in the group. The two grappled, and fell on each other, snarling and cursing, while others looked on in fear and anticipation. After only a moment, the one that had been attacked gained the upper hand, and started to pummel his opponent, who struggled to escape.

"Bully!" Buttercup growled, and shot downward like a bullet in a streak of green light. Reacting more on instinct than forethought, Blossom and then Bubbles followed as backup. Landing next to the more powerful man, Buttercup picked him up by the collar of his ripped sweater, and threw him off the other beaten man.

"Is he...?" Buttercup looked on, as Blossom checked the man's breathing. It was irregular, but there. Slowly, the beaten man got to his feet, and stared at the girls.

"People of Townsville..." Blossom started to say, when a brick hit the side of her helmet. It did no damage, but it got Blossom's attention, a second before a literal hailstorm of other objects descended on them.

"Kill 'em!" The large angry man yelled to his pack mates, who scrambled, looking for sharper, harder, meaner things to throw. Several men and women didn't bother. They charged right at the girls. Angry beyond rational thought or words, they beat on the girls relentlessly, but with no effect. The three armored Powerpuffs just floated in place, dumbstruck.

"But..." Blossom held up her hands, trying to peacefully ward the people away.

Buttercup quickly got angry. "Hey! What are you idiots doing?!"

"Watch it." Bubbles warned, and shot up into the air, just as a blur of motion raced out from the ruins of a nearby store. Something hard and metal smashed into Buttercup at insanely high speed. Her armor cushioned the blow, but coming from behind, it still caught her from behind.

Reacting quickly, both Buttercup and Blossom quickly rose higher into the air.

Down on the ground, a lean Asian woman in torn and dirty clothes appeared in a streak of light, much like the Pwoerpuff's own. She looked up at them, and started yelling in Japanese. Reaching for a rock, she spun and blurred almost to invisibility as her arm whipped forward. The missile shot through the air at near rail gun speeds, slamming into the surprised Blossom's faceplate. The force of the blow sent her flying back, though it barely hurt, thanks to her armor.

"Who...?" She started to ask.

"I've seen her before..." Bubbles answered.

"What's going on!?" Buttercup asked, unsure.

"We don't have time for this." Lowering his armored gauntlet, the Professor fired a small circular capsule that detonated over the crowd, releasing a cloud of gas. Hate Male snarled, and sped off, but the other Townsvillians were quickly rendered unconscious.

"They're not our problem," He said, quickly, imagining the looks his daughters were giving him. Abruptly, the ground rumbled, and loose bricks fell from broken buildings.

"Look's like we've got company!" Buttercup sounded enthusiastic and not the least bit afraid.

"Just the three of us." Blossom sighed. "And the Professor, of course."

To their left, a building shattered to pieces, and bits slowly fell to the ground. The world, it seemed, had slowed down just a fraction. Just long enough to drag on this moment, the moment that dwelled in their hearts. The moment they had all secretly waited for, and loved for.

It was time to save the world.

Bubbled nodded, slowly. "Get ready. It's close."

As the dust started to settle, a sudden wind blew in, clearing the smoke in an instant. What the girls saw was not what they were expecting. This was no hideous monster - a nightmare made flesh, repulsive and terrifying. No: this was a thing of beauty and perfect craftsmanship. It stood before them, warm and loving, like the mother they'd never had. A perfect face, delicate jaw, deep piercing cobalt eyes that spoke of experience and wisdom and all things... This was less a monster and more an angel. A dream, given life.

The Professor blinked. This was not the anomaly he had detected and observed earlier. This was a woman, floating before him, perfect in form, radiating confidence and all things comely and desirable. He felt a longing inside him, a deep thrumming. He wanted to kneel before this figure, and kiss her hand, and offer himself up to her. Her eyes were like the endless sea, deep enough to be lost in. Miss Bellum... all other mortal women... were as nothing to this beauty, the embodiment; the long sought perfection that had consumed his life made flesh.

And in its right hand, the Angel held a blade: curved, long, graceful, and burning with ethereal flame.

Speechless.

Stunned.

Awed.

The assembled last hope of the world could do nothing but wait for it to strike.

It did not disappoint.


	2. Gauntlet: Advent part 2

**Note that the dates are as follows. The present events occur in the year 2000. Flashbacks occur in the year indicated (1997)**

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Insert worthless not legally binding in court disclaimer stuff here. Like a good communist, I own nothing.

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"Gauntlet: Advent"  
Part 2

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Blossom cringed, as the Angelic being that had stood before them drew back its blade, and struck out, in a wide slash. The movement was breathtakingly smooth, natural, effortlessly graceful, and the pink Powerpuff could only marvel at it. Even the Professor, who had been struck by the blade, made no move to defend himself. And who would want to? So be brought low by such a being was to be brought up out of the mud and into a paradise. What cost was so small a sacrifice as ones life for such a thing?

She didn't even follow him as he fell down to the earth far below.

She couldn't... just couldn't take her eyes off this woman. Her hair billowed and rose up over her shoulders, framing her perfect countenance like the ethereal wispy flame of her sword. Leaning in closer, ever closer, blade drawn back, the Angel seemed to whisper something to her. Blossom strained her hearing, the most important thing in her life being to know what her killer had to say.

Then, the Angel's gaze moved down, from Blossom to Buttercup.

Such power, such beauty, such perfection - Buttercup wanted to blink, wanted to do anything but gape, like a fool. She wanted nothing more than to shed the fool armor her father had given her and pray to this being properly. She was everything Buttercup had dreamed of being. Nay, she was everything beyond what Buttercup had dreamed. She was strong, beautiful... feminine, and yet dominant and unafraid. Weakness was a word that did not apply to her. Her mere presence negated it. She was all-powerful, and in her heart, Buttercup knew she was all knowing as well.

All knowing.

All seeing.

All judging.

"I'm not worthy..." Buttercup felt her lips move; felt the words boil in her mind. She wanted to express how her universe had changed by this woman's simple presence. She wanted to take off her mask, tear it off, and breathe the same air that this woman was. Even such a tiny vicarious thing would be an eternity of bliss. And then the Angel's gaze left her, and Buttercup felt wounded beyond what any physical blow could inflict.

Finally, at Bubbles, the Angel's heavenly expression contorted ever so slightly.

Yet even this grimace of distaste she made seem a wonderful and joyful thing. To be disgusted meant interest, interest implied attention. How intrinsically elating, then, that such a thing as this perfect woman, this perfection embodied, would give Bubbles even a split instant's passing notice. Bubbles knew that she was but the shadow of an insect, and this woman was the sun. No: beyond the sun. This woman was the universe.

"Yes." Tears streamed down Bubbles cheeks, and she held her arms out wide, willing the killer blow to usher her into the beauteous fire of the blade, watching and waiting with the most rapt attention imaginable. "Yesss... please..."

The Angel seemed to settle on this object of annoyance before the others, and with slow, purposeful, exquisite grace, she raised her flaming sword to Bubbles' jaw, pressing up the jaw of her helmet armor just slightly. Despite not penetrating, Bubbles could feel... revel... in the warm, soft, heavenly heat that played across her skin. Soon, it would purify her. Soon, it would seep deep into her body.

She blinked, as a tiny voice protested.

The light. The light was her enemy. The light wanted to deceive her. **THEY always used the light to deceive**. She blinked once more, and again took in the form of her killer. How could the thought of escape from this paradise fate have ever crossed her mind? She mentally cursed Octi for trying to deprive her of this.

He was only jealous.

Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, the blade cut through armor, parting it like butter. The heat grew more and more intense, yet the burning was, in a way, wonderful. It erased all doubt, all fear... Bubbles smiled, as the tip neared her throat, when, without warning, a great green wave of light crashed into the Angel. Stunned somewhat, its face no longer visible beneath a carpet of perfect hair, Bubbles was able to focus on something else.

Notably the green Rowdyruff nursing his bruised fist.

"Did I hit the bitch? Did I?" He also had his eyes closed, she realized. "Girls! Ya hear me? Don't look at her! Close your eyes!!"

"What?" Bubbles managed to say, but then again that face came into view. All knowing. All seeing. She was once more in thrall of it. Staring mutely, Bubbles was nearly cleaved in twine, and would have been, had Butch not body slammed her from where he floated, eyes still closed. Only his sensitive super hearing, coupled with her one outburst, had allowed him to zero in on where she floated, mutely.

"Butch?" Buttercup called out, covering her eyes. Her voice took on a frantic tone, her normal cool professionalism shattered. "Butch!? Blossom? ...Bubbles? Are you ok? Is... AH!!"

Buttercup heard the sound of parting air, and with every fiber of her being: MOVED. Behind her, the dark burned skeleton of a building shuddered, before folding neatly in half and crashing to the ground. Breathing heavily, her pulse quickened by fear, Buttercup shut her mouth and concentrated. All around her, the sounds of the world tried to distract and entangle her senses. Gritting her teeth hard enough to hurt, she concentrated even harder, searching, waiting...

There!

Taking off to the side, she felt a warm breeze pass by her left shoulder. Dodging randomly, rapidly, Buttercup occasionally felt the almost soothing heat brush against her from the strikes of the Angel that almost connected. Still, even at top speed, it was nearly keeping pace with her. Without being able to see her opponent, it was only a matter of time before she was hit. Buttercup was about to shoot down, into the ground, to try and think up a new plan of action, when a flash of white hot light engulfed her and swept the Powerpuff away like a reed boat in a tidal wave. Buttercup hit the ground amid the flames and ash that had once been several blocks of downtown Townsville.

And were now little more than a blasted crater.

Butch listened for breathing, and finally narrowed down on the hard, but almost inaudible, filtration noises of the girls' armored suits. He heard the sounds of destruction from behind, but pressed forward. Hands out, he finally felt something hard, and in the rough shape of a Powerpuff. Blushing a bit as whoever he was feeling up, even thought she had armor on, Butch finally found what seemed to be the curve of a jaw.

"Sorry." He couldn't help but say, before winding up and slapping the hard surface soundly. Pulling back his hand, he grimaced and shook it - that armor was tough stuff. Almost as tough as hitting that... thing... that was attacking them.

"W... wha... Butch?" Blossom reached up to her face. She looked the Rowdyruff over quickly. "What's going on? Why are your eyes closed? Oh my god! What happened to your hand?"

"Keep your eyes closed!" Butch yelled, reaching for her face. "If you look at it, it'll stun you or somethin."

"That's..."

"Trust me, pinkie. I don't have time to shit around."

She frowned, but closed her eyes.

"As for my hand..." Butch sighed. "That... thing... must be made out of solid fucking neutronium. If I hadn't been using my power to harden my fist, it'd have likely broken after that first blow."

"Great. We can't fight it blind, we..." Blossom thought of something, and concentrated her thoughts. The nanotech armor the Professor had made for them was supposedly self-adapting. "Maybe... yes! An extra sensory mode..."

Ultraviolet.

"What?" Butch asked. "What'dya mean? X-Ray vision won't work. It doesn't show up for some reason. I tried it on the way here, and ended up getting disoriented..."

"No. Something else." Blossom widened her eyes, and looked around. The world was in the wrong colors, and small objects in the distance were more like blots than anything else. It was hard to tell what was what. Switching again, this time to infrared, she managed to pick up a strong signal in the distance, floating in midair.

"I've got an idea. On the count of three, fire your eyebeams. As narrow and focused as you can."

Butch didn't argue. "Right."

"One..." Blossom reached behind the Rowdyruff boy, and grabbed a fistful of hair. "Two..." Carefully, she tried to aim his vision right at the target. "Three! Fire!"

Butch's eyes snapped open, and a long blazing lance of pulsing white and green energy reached out to touch someone. The initial aim was off slightly, but Blossom quickly corrected the error, and painted it on target. The powerful eyebeam was like a line of pure white on Blossom's sensors, and readouts appeared on the side of her armor's visor.

Impressive: The Rowdyruffs had always been powerhouses, if not very gifted in the tact department.

Racing forward, she confirmed that the Angel hadn't moved. Instead, the outline of the thing was still floating in place, with the beam tearing into its chest before breaking and splitting apart. The smaller lines of light cut into the ground, and rained devastation on what was left of the city below them, but the main beam seemed to be having no effect on the Angelic being. Its face moved as Blossom got closer, looking right at her with empty hollow eyes.

With a feral cry, Blossom reformed the armor around her right arm into a shield, triple layered. The nanotech happily complied, flowing down her arm, and coagulating and aggregating into more armor. With a crash that could be heard for miles, Blossom's gauntleted fist impacted with the Angel's face. The head tilted back slightly from the blow, and as Blossom passed over its shoulder, she felt rather than saw the armor around her fist flake off in molten drops and chips, from the fatigue of the tremendous collision.

Her hand still hurt, even after all that.

The Angel slowly turned, sword sliding through the air. Blossom couldn't make out its facial features, but it didn't look or act like the attack had hurt it very much. It seemed about to strike, when a flaming sphere of plasma splashed onto its back. Unsteadily, Powerprof floated up behind it, his forearms unleashing one great gout of flame after another. The attack, combined with the slightly dimming energy of Butch's eyebeams, still seemed to do no more than annoy the Angel.

Spinning, without warning, the Angel's blade crackling energy, Blossom felt waves of heat and air cut into her, right through the armor. Hundreds of meters away, even as Butch fell back, blood streaming from a cut along his chest, the Professor reeled from the attack, falling back, his broken and unprepared body refusing to respond to his desperate pleas to keep fighting on. Even with the armor, it had quickly become obvious that they hadn't stood a chance.

Hitting the ground with a crash, the Professor slipped mercifully out of consciousness.

* * *

**1997 CE  
October 5  
T-6 Hours**

"How are things proceeding, Nate?"

"Systems all check out. We're ready to go, sir."

"Great. You've gone well, Nate." Robert Utonium looked out over his assembled staff. They were hand picked: young, resourceful, eager, ready and willing to break the mold and risk everything. They were the Young Bloods of Majestic Five, and this was their finest hour. Though Robert was their leader, he never took his position to be anything other than a formality. They were a team. They were his family.

"You've all done well," Robert spoke out to the others who were assembled at their workstations, ready to oversee the next stage of the future they would bring to the world. "And now it's time. Time to make history!"

A cheer rose up from the young men and women, and a few pumped their fists in the air. Robert smiled. There was an energy, an inherent vibrancy, that their team had. It was what really separated them from the old men and women who stood in the way, and took things too slowly - old men and women afraid to gasp at straws and take risks. Robert Utonium reached into the breast of his lab coat, and took out a small CD-recorder. Clicking it on, he started to speak.

"October Fifth, three thirty Eastern Standard Time." He grinned, savoring the moment. "We are ready to begin the long awaited Human Integration Trials."

Walking over to the main workstation that oversaw the Artifact, Robert thought about mentioning that the timetable had been pushed forward, but decided against it. Either they failed or succeeded. That was the bottom line.

"Begin extraction and collection procedures, Dr. Jefferson."

"You got it." The slightly older man answered in his deep baritone voice. Jefferson, the only African American on Robert's team, was his second in charge, an Initiate of the Third Circle. Around the suspension zone containing the Artifact, a slowly rotating ring lowered, and a section revolved. A mechanical arm lowered, its manipulator claw and attached appendages and tools glinting in the bright antiseptic light of the laboratory.

"We are now collecting a sample of cellular culture number six. After exhaustive research on the localized effect of the Artifact on living tissue, it was determined that the most effective medium for culturing an approximation of the material of the artifact itself was a porous hydrophyllic hydrogel, layered with a fibrous matrix of cross-linked bovine tendon collagen. In this scaffold a mixture of human stem cells was prompted to begin controlled differentiation through a series of hormone injections. This particular culture has been growing for the last two weeks, and is at the point where it can be harvested."

The manipulator arm carefully picked up the circular polymer disk, and after sealing it, dipped a thin hypodermic in with laser precision.

"Analysis of the Artifact has long shown how resistant it is, materially, to any sort of physical probing. Diamond drills, lasers, water jets... none of these have any effect. Dr. Angam's early work, coupled with my own pioneering work at dimensional spectroscopy, has led to the revelation that there are several layers to the Artifact... Eight, in fact, around the core itself."

"Extraction beginning, Dr. U-ton-ium." Nate snickered from his workstation.

"Yeah. That's real professional, Dr. 'Do-Little.'" Robert cleared his throat and continued his narration to the recorder. "Given its reactions to brain waves, as well as living matter, altering them on an atomic and para-physical level, within a localized area, it is my hypothesis that we can achieve a stronger reaction... a much stronger reaction... by exposing it to a hybrid. One step removed, or perhaps between, its structure and our own."

Walking purposefully over to another workstation, he looked down at Mary. She was the youngest member of the team, and the most serious, even in the company of friends. She watched and worked silently, controlling the removal, purification, dilution and preparation for the Extract. Finally, a small thick vial filled with black ink-like liquid.

"Done!" She said, simply, and held it up in a delicate gloved hand.

"The Chemical Extract has been prepared according to the Utonium Sequence, defined previously. This Extract is a natural molecular duplicate of the Artifact's own mysterious material, altered slightly to remain stable in a viscous liquid form for laboratory purposes. Refinement of this procedure to produce a solid version would require both a greater amount of the Chemical Extract, and more testing on its properties in and outside of this state."

Robert Utonium held the vial up to the light. "Chemical Extract..."

"Hey. What about just calling it Chemical X?" Someone called out. "You know: X for Extract?"

"Chemical X?" Robert shrugged. "Kind of silly... but... Hmm... why not?"

* * *

Bubbles gasped for air, her throat ragged. Fear alone kept her eyes closed. "H... help... help me..."

The Angel stood over her, one petite foot pressed down on the Powerpuff's chest. The ground cracked, and the tough armor that had kept Bubbles alive this long finally buckled. All around her, hot fumes rose like funeral pyres into the sky, masking and obscuring the rest of what was left of Townsville like a dark mist.

"Betrayer." She heard a soft, feminine voice, like a melody that never faded from memory. It was the voice of the One, horrible and wonderful at the same time, mocking and sorrowful.

"Please..." Bubbles wanted to open her eyes, wanted to look for Blossom or Buttercup, the Professor or Butch. Everything was so quiet... what had happened? Was everyone... was...?

"I will take no chances with you." The soft voice continued. Bubbles felt the terrible comforting heat of the Angel's sword as it neared her left cheek. "Look at me. Look at me before I finish you, Abomination."

"no..." Bubbles voice was small. "I won't..."

"You will!"

"I won't!" Bubbles voice grew in strength. "I won't!" Reaching up, blindly, she visualized where the blade would be, and with renewed strength... power fueled by anger and frustration, like an endless well, she grabbed the edge, and pushed it aside. Something was fueling her. Something was growing inside her, an untapped power... Opening her mouth, Bubbles screamed, and the land shook.

Darkness.

'Where am I?'

Darkness.

'Bubbles...'

So weak.

'Bubbles...'

So tired.

**"BUBBLES!!"**

The Angel reeled from the concentrated sonic attack. It sneered in discomfort, and casually kicked the offending Abomination. The blow sent it flying, crashing into and through one of the human structures that promptly collapsed like a house of cards. Turning, she not so much watched, but comprehended, as another of the little beasts attacked.

Blows rained down, as the little terror roared.

The Angel watched, mutely, as it pulled back, hands nearly broken, making random erratic maneuvers. These Abominations were untouched - they would not understand the Word, even if they could Hear it. No matter. All they needed to do was die. With that done, things could Return.

Holding up her palm, a great tumult of destruction rocked forward, churning up the earth, uprooting whole buildings, throwing an entire subway train into the air from its lair deep in the ground. The air shimmered, and Butch was caught in the wave of devastation. The Angel watched, somewhat impressed, as he stayed in one bloody piece while the rest of the world around him was torn asunder. This Abomination was unusually hardy.

From the sides, two more of the armored Abominations came at her. They were getting more comfortable fighting near-blind, relying on their hearing, and on their infernal devices. At least the Human would not be getting up soon. He could have coordinated their efforts, and with him taken out early, the younger, more impulsive Abominations would be simple to dispose of. How the other Ones had failed, this One could not fully comprehend.

With the flat of her blade, the Angel swiped upwards. The blow did not connect, but the air pressure was more than enough to send the foul little thing reeling. The other flew back, in a green flash of light, and caught her compatriot before she could hit anything. The Angel approached the bruised and beaten Abominations, in no particular hurry.

Then, the two pointed at her.

The two fired some sort of beams from their arms that collected, growing in power, before firing at her. The Angel simply kept going forward, into the beam. It washed across her like so much water, carving twin furrows in the ground to both sides of her, like small canyons. Closing the distance, she tried to spear one of them with the tip of her blade, and again that damnable technology of theirs barely allowed them to escape, the edge glancing just slightly off the armor enough to afford escape.

Still, they were tiring.

Soon, exhaustion would set in, and the little Abominations would be dispatched in short order. A far off sonic boom caught the Angel's attention, for just a moment. She turned, and comprehended as something small, blue and fast roared towards her. At his passing, buildings flew apart. It was the other Abomination. The one she had felt, but not comprehended. It had been weak then, and it was weak now.

Erecting a shield, the Angel deflected the Rowdyruff's rash attack, sending him rebounding off the invisible barrier with a loud thud. After bouncing an impressive distance, he came to a sprawling stop. So little energy, to have expended it all already. The Angel gathered its power, readied to strike out, when the tenacious pink Abomination leapt at her. Casually, the Angel reached up, and with her free hand, grabbed the offensive little gnat. And though she felt no real pleasure, the Angel did derive some small satisfaction from the sounds this little Abomination made when she squeezed.

She squeezed, and armor deformed and failed, and soon, there would be the finale: grinding bones to dust, and flesh to pulp. An electric shock suddenly shot down the Angel's arm, and deep into her chest. It felt cold. Alien. Letting go of her prize, the Angel stumbled back, her feet touching the ground.

What... was... this...?

* * *

Blossom hit the ground in an almost boneless heap. Her whole body ached, but nothing felt broken, fortunately. Her armor was completely gone. Little remained but a ruined mess, tatters of tubules and nanotech fibers. Even her helmet was cracked, and its electronics dimmed to uselessness. Resigned, tired, and ... emotionally broken, Blossom lifted the helmet off and felt her hair cascade down her face and bruised shoulders.

Without even thinking, she opened her eyes.

"What the...?" She looked up, and saw the Angel. Its beautiful face was contorted and twisted in agony, and it stumbled back, and from side to side, clawing at itself. Dark splotches and veins, like lines, were etched on its formerly flawless skin. It still radiated power and majesty, but compared to before, it was only a trickle from what had once been a waterfall.

"Blossom..." Buttercup landed nearby, holding Butch up by his shoulders. He looked to be in pretty bad condition, but at the same time, he was far from unconscious. He was watching the Angel struggle with its internal demons intently, obviously glad to be using his eyes again.

"Where's Bubbles? And the Professor?" Blossom forced through her hurt jaw.

"I dunno." Buttercup looked down, ashamed. "I dunno..."

"Holy... Look... Look!" Butch weakly pointed at the bane of their existence. And Angel was on its knees, feminine fingers dug deep in the blasted ground. Smoke was slowly rising from its body, and faint crackles of electricity danced along its skin. Blossom smelt a hint of ozone pass over them, as a low guttural groan came from the beautiful Angel. Next to the tortured creature, its sword cracked, splitting into a million broken shards.

Rearing up, the Angel's full body became visible. Dark lines, like creeping vines, were all over it, along with deep dark splotches, like liver spots. From beneath full breasts, a growing force could be felt, an instant before a bright light erupted, cutting the ribcage in half, splitting the sternum. The Angel broke nearly in half, before instantly burning away into a cloud of dust.

Blossom blinked.

Butch was speechless.

Buttercup gasped.

Out of the swelling dust storm, a single outline was still visible. In the dying light of nearby fires, highlighted by floating embers, Brick floated forward, eyes blazing red like the fires of hell. Slowly, he smirked.

* * *

**1997 CE  
October 5  
T-5 Hours**

"Are we ready?"

"We're prepped and ready to go. Three mols of..." Nate snickered, and his voice took on a mock ominous tone. "Cheeemmmical X!"

"Good." Robert tilted his head to the side. "Harv, begin the recording."

"Starting... now." The second in command for the Project activated the recorder. "Time is October Fifth, four thirty Eastern Standard Time."

"Thank you, Dr. Jefferson." Robert Utonium cleared his throat and began anew. "For historic posterity, I am recording this event. We are finally ready to begin human testing for Chemical Extract... Chemical X. It is my belief that incorporation of this Chemical into a human patient with sufficient awareness will prompt Telephysical Transformation, and a stable interface with the shielded core of the Artifact. For purposes of... expediency and efficiency, a bulk injection of three mols should provide sufficient suffusion for every cell in the human body after a period of only ten minutes, perhaps less."

He took a deep breath. "Let's do it."

"Good luck, sir." Mary said, softly, and pressed the hypodermic to his carotid. She injected the black liquid slowly, and Robert had to grit his teeth as he felt the cold Chemical seep into his body. He started to shake, just as she pulled the needle out.

"It feels... it feels strange... not like any injection I've ever had before. I can... I can feel it. I'm finding it hard to concentrate. Hard to describe what I'm feeling..." Robert took in a sharp breath.

"Vitals are within safe margins." A voice from behind said, trying to be reassuring. "Respiration increased 42. Blood pressure rising. Heart rate rising..."

"I can feel it..." Robert tilted his head, look towards the center of the lab, eyes on the Artifact. "I can feel it calling for me... so many voices... it... it's... us."

* * *

"B... Brick?" Blossom wiped the dirt and sweat from her forehead, and squinted at him. Was she seeing things? Had she taken one too many blows to the head? Or was he...

"Alive." Brick landed in front of them, and examined his arms. "Quite alive, actually, thank you. Never better, actually."

"Bro?" Butch slipped out from under Buttercup's supporting arm. "Holy shit, man! Holy shit! You're alive!"

Brick looked up, surprised to find Butch embracing him. The raven haired Rowdyruff wrapped his arms around his brother - his leader, and yet, no longer his leader. It didn't matter! Brick was back! He had come back, and why should that have surprised him? Brick had a knack for coming back from the dead.

"Butch..." Brick's eyes passed over Blossom and Buttercup, both of whom were smiling, tears in their eyes. Brick unease didn't totally melt away, but the look of surprise on his face when both Powerpuffs ran forward to join in the hug was priceless. Or at least Blossom thought so. It could be some small revenge for all the times he'd done something or said something just to see the look of surprise and shock on her face.

"Hey, come on now." The red Rowdyruff patted his brother on the back a few times, and stepped back, trying to get some room from his three contemporaries. "What's with the waterworks here?"

Butch quickly straightened up, like a soldier at attention. He hastily wiped the tears from his eyes. Stonily, he smiled. "Nice to see you again, Bossman."

"You too, Butch." Brick stepped forward, and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "You look good."

Butch broke out in laughter. Shaking his head, he reached up and nervously tousled his hair. "All these beatings build character, right?"

"You got it." Brick then faced Buttercup. Their eyes met for a moment, and Buttercup was instantly reminded of that one terrible moment, when...

"Hey, I'm..." She started to say.

"Buttercup." He said her name in full. Not: 'hey, you,' or 'puff' ... just her name.

"Yeah?" She asked, trying not to sound guilty or nervous.

"Don't sweat it. Ok?"

Quickly, she nodded. Did he forgive her? She quickly decided that yes, yes he did. And she did too. Lastly Brick faced Blossom. Still smirking, he pointed to the top of his head. Blossom reached up, and remembered she didn't have her bow on. Oddly, she felt sort of naked without it.

Without waiting for him to say anything, she ran forward and hugged him. Before he could react, she gave him a quick, chaste peck on the cheek.

"That's for saving me," she whispered, softly, into his ear.

"It's good to see you again, Bloss. From this side of things." He shrugged her off after a few stunned seconds, rubbing his cheek. Louder, he said, "Geez, Bloss. You trying to explode me again or something?"

She blushed, and gave him room. Brick, she knew, still wasn't too comfortable with personal contact. Then she went over what he just said in her mind. "What do you mean, from this side?"

"That's a secret." Brick chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll tell ya anyway. In a moment. I wanna see Boomer and ...Bubbles ...first."

"Hey! Can I get some help here?" Bubbles' voice broke the moment perfectly. Through the thick smoke, she hovered, and together with Boomer, she helped hold up the Professor. He looked even worse off than the last time he'd put on a Powerprof suit.

"Just in time." Brick's smirk faded slightly. Inclining his head, he watched carefully as Blossom and Buttercup rushed over to help the Professor. The Rowdyruff leader was about to start talking, when a blue blur tackled him.

"Brick! How on earth...?!"

"Calm down, Boomer." Brick playfully messed up his blonde brother's hair. Getting back to his feet, Brick got a good look at Boomer. He looked tired. Even his rich blue eyes were bloodshot.

"I'm here, man. Everything's gonna be fine." Brick's voice was reassuring, and Boomer nodded, smiling.

"I think so. But... but look around..." Boomer gulped, and did so as he spoke. The enormity of the situation still hadn't reached him entirely. He had just woken up, and taken off after he heard Bubbles' scream. He hadn't even dreamed - just one moment he'd been knocked out by his double, and then he heard her scream and... "I don't know what the hell happened here, bro..."

"Yes..." The Professor interrupted, his voice rough and hoarse. Buttercup and Blossom were still holding him up, while Butch hastily removed the un-salvageable parts of his Powerprof armor. He looked like he had more than a few serious wounds, but nothing life threatening that the suit hadn't, apparently, already taken care of. How convenient. Brick had hoped that he'd survive to this point. "How is it you are here, young man?"

"How?" Brick asked. "Quite simple, actually. You have Blossom to thank for it."

"Blossom?" Bubbles asked. Her first words directed towards him.

"Oh yes. Blossom. My Mneme." He didn't miss how the Professor's eyebrows rose slightly at that name, or how a look of confusion, then comprehension, appeared on Blossom's face. Brick continued. "In preparation for our little merger, I made the decision to take the opportunity to back myself up, so to speak."

"Non omnia moriar," Blossom said. "Not all of me dies."

"You got it, Bloss. I took the chance to recreate a small part of myself, my memories, my personality, all that good stuff, and tucked it away in part of the mind that is seldom used. I waited, and even watched... providing the occasional flash of inspiration... waiting for a chance to escape. I hadn't planned on recreating myself in such a spectacular fashion, but when your skin contacted the One's, I decided to take the chance. It was obviously unprepared for such an attack, and once I'd started..."

"Started, what?" Buttercup asked. "What did you do?"

"I consumed it. I infiltrated its Living Core, and, well..." He looked down at his arm again, and made a fist, flexing the muscle. "Put it to good use. It was easier than I thought it would be. Now, it is time to put things in order."

"What do you mean, bro?" Butch scratched his neck. "We won..."

"Yes. But there is one more enemy to deal with." Brick faced Bubbles. "Two, actually. And conveniently enough, they're in the same place."

"W... what are..." Bubbles stammered, and took a step back.

Brick's gaze was unblinking. "Please. Spare me the theatrics. Don't think I didn't anticipate this. You've always been obsessed with her."

"Brick..." Boomer stepped to Bubbles defense. "You're not talking sense..."

"You bet I am." Brick's smile became a snarl. "Come on out, **HIM**! Come on out and play! Or are you too weak from that little assist you gave us a couple months ago?"

Bubbles growled, her voice most defiantly not her own. "I'd hoped you'd have died for good, brat."

"HIM!?" Blossom jumped down, and pointed at her sister. "What have you done to Bubbles?!"

"Ooohh..." Bubbles voice became feminine. "Nothing at all. I'm just biding my time. Recent events have left me feeling a bit drained, you see..."

"The transvestite helped us defeat the Second One. The big sphere thing... that was his energy that overwhelmed it in the end. I was hoping he'd intervene - it isn't in his benefit for mankind to be wiped out. No misery to feed on, you see." Brick barked out a single short laugh. "He's also the host for the last One."

"How do you know?" The Professor asked, and coughed loudly.

"Simple. I gave it to him. It is attracted to power... it wants a host that can protect and shelter it's vulnerable Living Core... while it screws with humanity, turning them into weapons. I suspect the only reason Miss Bellum and your Professor are sane at all isn't because you were able to keep a virus or contaminant out, but because Bubbles was protecting you. You haven't corrupted her completely, HIM, and now you're out of time."

"Is that sooo?" Bubbles voice became masculine, and she spat out the next words. "What are you going to do, Rowdyruff boy?"

"I'll kill you." Brick's eyes flashed, and the ground at Bubbles feet liquefied. She jumped back in time to avoid being burned. "You're still weak. Especially compared to this new body of mine. I'll kill you, and that will destroy both you and the One that is also in Bubbles' body."

"Brick..." Blossom reached to stop him, but with a stiff arm, he threw her back.

"Don't interfere!" His eyes never left HIM/Bubbles. "Well? What are you going to do, demon?"

"I know what you're planning." HIM's feminine voice was starting to grate on his nerves. "It can't be allowed to happen..." The voice became a deep tenor. "Maybe I should tell them, yes? Tell them what you plan to do?"

"Go ahead. It won't do you any good." Brick's voice was level, calm. He was in control, or at least it was important to make that impression. HIM's control started to waver. Brick, meanwhile, started to build up energy behind his eyes. Only a single, powerful, beam would have the punch to take her out in one blow. Then, in a move he didn't expect, HIM smiled.

"Well played boy." His voice wasn't as deep as before. "But she'll stop you..."

"Eh?" Brick's eyes widened. Bubbles eyes were half closed, and she looked dizzy. When he saw something black slouch down her upper lip, from her nose, the energy behind his eyebeams dissipated. For once, he was unprepared.

"Bubbles!" Blossom and Buttercup yelled, at the same time, and rushed past him. Holding their sister, Blossom checked the blood coming out of her nose.

"It's... it's not blood?" Blossom felt the strange thick ichor on her hand.

"He... he's gone." Bubbles groaned. She closed her eyes. "Octi's gone... The light... it's gone... what happened? I... I feel sick..."

"Gone?" Brick ran forward, and boldly but gently held Bubbles head up by her chin. Slowly opening her eyes, he looked deep into them. "Gone... I can't feel either of them... he gave his life..."

Butch interrupted his brother's revere. "Dude. What the fuck just happened?"

"He gave his life to save her..." Brick's voice was soft, but those nearby could hear it easily enough. "How... unexpected."

Bubbles groaned again, holding her head. "Owww."

"Bubbles, I could kiss you!" Brick gave her a quick, crushing hug, and then stepped back. Fists clenched, he started to laugh, a wild uncontrolled unmitigated laughter from deep within. "Everything has turned out **perfectly**!!"

"I wouldn't say that..." Blossom frowned, looking at the devastation all around them. There wasn't much left of Townsville except rubble, and the remains of a few building scaffolds. True, Townsville had been destroyed before, but never so completely. Never to thoroughly. There wasn't a living soul to be seen. The rest of the world was likely only a little better off.

"You don't get it." Brick smiled as he faced her. He genuinely smiled. "We won! **We won**!!" He paused. "But you don't know what we've won." He laughed again. "Come. Come! I'll show you!"

With a bright flash, he took off, high into the air. The Three Powerpuffs exchanged weary glances, but when Boomer and Butch took off after their brother, they decided to follow as well. The assembled six were about to head off again, when slowly the partially armored form of Professor Utonium flew up to their level.

"I... I said I would see this to the end." His voice left no room for debate. "And I will."

Brick just smirked, and in a streak of red light, headed out to sea.

No more games.

It was time for the Prize.

(To be continued in the last installment of the Gauntlet series. "Gauntlet: Gehenna.")


End file.
